


Love, Marriage, and Blood Magic

by jamcreynolds



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 09:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamcreynolds/pseuds/jamcreynolds
Summary: Hermione finds a ritual that will bring back help to deal with Harry's crippling guilt.





	Love, Marriage, and Blood Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Hermione watches as Harry starts to crumble under the guilt left behind by the Second Blood War and those that lost their lives. Hermione decides to do all she can to help her best friend, someone she's developed feelings for in the past months. What better way to do that than bring in positive reinforcements?
> 
> This piece was written for Harmony & Co’s Halloween Competition, Double Double Toil and Trouble. All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.

Hermione knew that she was playing with fire. Her plan had every possible chance at failing miserably, perhaps killing herself in the process. However, she justified the danger by telling herself that it was for Harry. Her best friend, the man who had never let her down. The man who she had started to see as more than a friend since their time spent together in the tent after Ron had left them on the Horcrux Hunt. Even though she had spent the entire time trying to find horcruxes and nearly starving to death, she still considered it one of the best times of her life. 

Harry had came through in the end, vanquishing the Dark Lord forever. However, the price had been steep. While the entire world sung his praises and labeled him a hero, Harry was bearing the weight of crippling guilt. He had turned his back on the Weasleys because of Ron’s death and his part in it. He had been impaled by a stake from the castle wall exploding right before their eyes. His last words had been to Harry, telling him to take care of Hermione. Both of them had worn his blood through the Final Battle, almost like it was their way to still carry him with them.

Ginny, as much as she had claimed to love Harry, had blamed him for Ron’s death. The rest of the family didn’t but she had always been the closest to Ron. What puzzled Hermione the most was that Harry really didn’t seem to care that Ginny held him responsible. Did he not care about the guilt or about Ginny specifically? He was still pleasant to Molly and the others when they did meet and even though the redheads were welcoming to them both, Harry still shied away from them.

Harry refused to help Andromeda with Teddy. He had once confided in her that people he loved died all around him and he didn’t want that for Teddy. He made sure to send Andie a stipend every month to help pay for his care but that was as far as it had gone. No amount of cajoling from Hermione or Andie could change his mind.

Remus and Tonks had both perished in the war, Tonks by Bellatrix and Remus by Dolohov. Aside from Ron, they hurt Harry the most. Hagrid was now gone, as was Professor Flitwick. While Harry was saddened at their deaths, the only emotion that was still weighing him down was guilt. He never left the house, he lay in bed all day, he only bathed and showered when she caught him with stinging hexes in his backside.

While Hermione was getting tired of having to care for her friend in this way for the past six months, what she felt most in regard to him was fear. Fear that he was willing himself to die, fear that he was going to leave her forever because he wanted to be with those that have already passed. She felt as though she wasn’t good enough and she hated that feeling more than anything. Therefore, she had come to the conclusion that she needed a plan to help relieve some of the guilt. 

This plan had kept her up more nights than she cared to admit in the Black library. Since Sirius had hated the house, he had never cleaned out the darker books, just moved them to a higher shelf. She began researching rituals and after ages of searching, had finally found one that would accomplish what she needed. A blood ritual that required not only Harry’s blood, but her own as well. Mixing them, it would call those back to them that weren’t really truly meant to die. It sounded remarkably easy, though she was sure that it really wasn’t.

Hermione studied the theory of the ritual for days, making sure that she knew it inside and out, that she knew exactly what was going to happen when she performed it. Her research did reveal that if she mixed the blood the wrong way, it could kill both herself and Harry rather than bring their loved ones back. She was sure to study the correct way with a thoroughness that would have even surprised her closest friends.

After studying the theory, Hermione studied the potion that she would have to make and drink before the ritual began. It didn’t seem to be too difficult to make but there were some highly volatile ingredients. She practiced making the potion numerous times until she knew without a doubt that it was perfect. She had prepared the basement in Grimmauld Place with the circle that the ritual called for. She was sure that to those that practiced the art of ritual magic, it was rudimentary, but she felt that was well enough made to work for her purposes.

Hermione had gathered her blood and Harry’s, merely telling him that she was experimenting with blood and she needed a sample that wasn’t her own. He willingly gave it, with no more care than he had for the rest of his life. He had wished her happy researching and she had smiled secretly. That was exactly what she was shooting for.

Therefore, Hermione stood in the basement of the dismal House of Black’s abode. Kreacher had renovated as best he could but there was only so much he could do by himself. Hermione had tried to get Harry to get another elf or two to help, paying them of course, but he hadn’t been interested. He had told her that the place that had tormented Sirius so much in life didn’t deserve a renovation.

She had gone through the cleansing steps carefully, making sure that her newly bought ritual robe was hanging just right on her body. She could see the runes that she had placed along with the circle, making sure to protect the magic within. With a nervous breath, she stepped into the circle. The whoosh of power she felt was almost overwhelming. Her voice was shaky but full of determination.

“May magic bless our unified purpose,” she toned. Her hair blew in a soft breeze but Hermione wasn’t intimidated. In fact, it felt as though it was a loving caress, doing it’s best to bring her pleasure. With the taste of the disgusting potion she had had to consume beforehand still on her tongue, she began.

“Quae ad nos non mittas voluissent. Accipe sacrificium sanguinis,” Hermione said, over and over. She could feel the magic swelling around her and she knew that it was time. She took out the vial of Harry’s blood and sliced her palm quite deeply. Once hers had pooled in her cupped palm, she poured Harry’s blood inside it as well. She swirled it around with her wand, muttering the charm that the ritual had instructed. After she was sure that the blood was perfect, she moved over the resurrection rune she had carved into the stone floor. She dumped all the blood she held in her palm on the rune, making it glow brightly.

Hermione felt a great surge of magic, one that she knew she was controlling. However, she learned quickly that the power she was trying to control was quickly sapping her energy. In the peripheral vision, she caught sight of a figure appearing. She dropped to her knees from the sheer force of trying to keep the magic from overtaking her. Her head grew cloudy as a second figure appeared, this time directly in front of her. When the third appeared, she fell to her side, breathing shallowly.

Finally, just before she lost consciousness, she felt the magic retreat from the circle with yet another loving caress. It felt almost sentient, which she supposed made sense. Magic had been alive within them all for more years than she even wanted to consider. There were whispers above her, sounding almost like they were closing the ritual circle. It was only moments later when she felt someone gather her in their arms and lift her up. Hermione’s eyes met those of Sirius Black, looking no older than he had the day he had died.

“Kitten? What’s going on here?” he said, his voice raspy. She let her head loll to the side, catching sight of a beautiful golden filigree tattoo wrapping around her left wrist. She had no idea what it meant but her fingers reached out to touch it. It felt almost alive under her touch. She turned to look up at Sirius and smiled at him.

“Thank Merlin you’re here. Harry needs you desperately,” she revealed. Sirius eyebrows raised as he glanced at the other two men. Hermione turned her head to see that one looked almost identical to Harry and the familiar face of Remus Lupin. Hermione couldn’t help but burst into tears. Sirius just hugged her tighter as they made their way up the stairs from the basement to the kitchen. Hermione saw the grimace on the older Gryffindor’s face at the sight. She saw Harry’s lookalike clap a hand on his shoulder. Sirius set her down on the table and gave her as stern a look as he was capable.

“You need to tell us what we’re doing here, kitten,” Sirius told her. As of yet, James and Remus hadn’t spoken. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the door banged open and Harry came through rubbing his eyes, his chest naked and a pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips. Hermione thought he was downright edible. His eyes looked up and caught sight of exactly who was in the kitchen and froze.

“‘Mi, please tell me that I’m not seeing things,” Harry said desperately. The three men chuckled and Hermione jumped off the table, suddenly feeling much better. She wrapped her arms around her best friend’s waist and hugged him tightly, enjoying the manly scent that clung to him. She reveled for only a moment before pulling away and pulling Harry to a chair to sit down. She gestured for the other three men to do so as well. Once they were appropriately seated, Hermione gave them all a shy smile.

“This happened because Harry is the most important person in my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving me because the guilt he felt was too great,” she paused for a moment to glare at Harry, “you know you were willing yourself to die. It kills me to know that I mean nothing, that you would leave me on purpose,” she stammered out, her voice only a whisper at the end. She could feel the burn of tears behind her eyes and she fought to keep them contained. Harry rose and pulled her into a hug, whispering in her ear.

“No, Hermione, I wasn’t trying to leave you. I was trying to free myself from the pain. I didn’t realize how bloody selfish that was until this moment. I never wanted to be the cause of your tears. Please, say you’ll forgive me, I’ll be better, I promise,” he explained. Hermione nuzzled into his side and let him hold her. She just wished that it meant the same thing to him as it did to her. His father, who had yet to speak, finally broke his silence.

“I don’t understand. Why would Harry want to leave his wife?” he questioned. Everyone in the room froze and Hermione felt Harry stiffen at his father’s words. She was quick to try to make everything better.

“We aren’t married, Mr. Potter, we’re just best friends. I brought you three back through a blood ritual so Harry could have less guilt. It was slowly killing him. We aren’t husband and wife,” she explained tersely. James Potter raised another eyebrow and gestured to her wrist.

“Those tattoos on your wrists say you are. You were bound in marriage by blood. Most couples don’t do it that way anymore because it’s eternal. Even Lily and I didn’t,” he explained. Hermione felt her heart stop beating at his words. She had trapped Harry in an eternal marriage to her without even telling him. She had given him no choice whatsoever and he didn’t even think of her like that. She had heard him tell Ron that very thing more than once before his death. The tears she had so valiantly held back burst free, sobs escaping her lips. She tried to stand and leave but Harry pulled her down into his lap, his iron grip holding her there.

“No, you aren’t leaving Hermione. You’re going to tell me exactly what you did,” he ordered her. He didn’t sound angry but she could see that there was a steel glint in his gaze. Hermione gulped loudly.

“I just wanted you to have someone to share your guilt in, someone that you loved. You weren’t sharing it with me and I didn’t want you to die. I found a ritual in the Black family library that would need the blood of the one casting the ritual and the one she was preparing it for. It never said anything about marrying the two people, Harry, I swear it! I wouldn’t have done it otherwise! I just wanted you to have someone else that you could confide in,” she had started out strong but ended with a whisper.

“I’m just so sorry,” she cried, the tears trickling down her cheeks. Harry put a finger under her chin and tipped her head up so he could meet her tear-filled eyes. He smiled down at her, a look of true happiness shining at her.

“I’m not sorry at all. I’ve loved you for years, ‘Mi, you have to know that. I only stepped aside because it was clear that you fancied Ron and he fancied you in return. I loved you both and wanted you to be happy. I tried to find that happiness with Ginny but it just wasn’t there. That’s why I never even tried to get back with her after the war ended; yes, I knew she blamed me for Ron but that would have passed with time. Besides, why did I need Ginny when I had the girl I’ve loved for so long living with me here?” he confessed. 

Hermione felt her heart stop; Harry returned her feelings? How had she not known that he liked her, loved her? He was complete shite at keeping secrets from her. Her head was trying to wrap itself around the fact that not only was she the new Mrs. Potter, her husband actually loved her. She broke out into a beaming smile.

“Oh, Harry, I'm so glad! I haven’t loved you that long but I knew that my feelings had changed after Ron left us. I was just trying to play the part that everyone expected of me. I’m just so sorry for the time we’ve wasted and not asking your permission to do what I did. I should have considered the consequences,” she said, sorrow tingeing her voice. Harry shook his head at her.

“I’ve always trusted you to get things right, ‘Mi, and this is no different. Do you regret it?” he asked, the fear suddenly apparent on his face. Hermione, knowing he needed reassurance, leaned forward and caught his lips in their first kiss.

It wasn’t deep or thrilling, just more sweet and filled with hope. It was a promise for the future, a promise of more for the both of them. Even though it lasted only a few seconds, Hermione knew she had enjoyed it more than she enjoyed anything she had done with Viktor. Not that she had ever gotten further than snogging with him. She briefly wondered if Harry had gotten past snogging with Ginny. After a few moments contemplation, she let that thought go. Even if he had, it didn’t matter now. He was married to her, not Ginny. He would always be with her now. Harry was staring into her eyes until a voice cleared and he realized that it was his father.

“This is all fine and great, congratulations to the two of you, but I need a serious update on life in general. I need to know what’s happened since I died. I need to see if Potter Manor is even standing, reinstate myself at Gringotts and the Ministry. We have so much to do and so little time!” James Potter exclaimed. It was as though Harry realized at last what she had done for him.

“Dad?” he choked out. The slightly older version of himself gave a mischievous grin and nodded. Harry moved her from his lap and rushed his father, hugging him tightly. James didn’t hold back, in fact, he laughed when Remus and Sirius joined in on the hug. Hermione just stood back and smiled happily; this was exactly what she had wanted for Harry, exactly what he needed. She wished that she could have brought back Ron and Lily Potter as well but she was going to be grateful for what she had gotten. After all, magic had gifted her with these men. Never would she spit in the face of magic by being ungrateful.

A quick hand shot out and caught her wrist, pulling her into the hug, nearly smothering her as they all laughed and patted each other on the backs. Hermione knew that her now husband wasn’t miraculously healed by any means but they were certainly one step closer. If anything had happened, it was more along the lines that he had agreed to let her help him. 

They would help him heal. 

Together.


End file.
